Free Dr. White's Baby Wish by Sue MacKay

movie.’
    Her heart thudded against her ribs, while her stomach slowly melted into a pool of longing. Longing for a man who might really, really be as big-hearted and understanding of her as Cody appeared to be. Stop these stupid dreams. They were never for real and only came back to bite people on the backside. Hers especially.
    â€˜Thanks,’ she muttered and sipped her tea. What else could she say?
    It was still Friday. There were two days before she went back to work and needed to have put Cody into the slot he was meant to be in. Ah, but hadn’t she kind of intimated he should go with her to Jason’s birthday bash? Not with her, exactly, but she hadn’t told him to stay away.
    All this went to show that when a mad man put a gun to her head she couldn’t be responsible for anything she did or said for some time afterwards.
    Harper sank down into her pillows, pushed Cody away out of her thoughts and finished her tea, thinking about her family, all her nieces and nephews, and how much she adored them. Despite her day, she felt safe. Nothing to do with Cody. Nothing at all.
    The next time she woke, daylight was lightening the edges of her not-so-good blackout curtains. Lifting her head slowly, she was relieved to find the pressure band around her skull had gone and the drummers behind her eyeballs had packed their bags and left. Yeah. Progress. She still felt wiped out and would take any movement slowly. Swallowing hurt like stink but the swelling at the front of her neck felt as though it might have lessened.
    Climbing out of bed, she shoved into a tee-shirt and tugged on a pair of long gym pants—not a fashion statement, but at least she could saunter out to her kitchen and face up to Nurse Cody without blushing about her night attire.
    His eyes widened and those full lips twitched when he saw her. ‘You’re not going to tennis, then?’
    Okay, maybe a light blush. ‘Has he phoned again?’ Her head might be a load better but thumping around a court swinging a racket would not be the best idea she could have. It wasn’t even on a good day, when all her faculties were in top working order.
    â€˜No. It’s only a little after eight. Just thought that might be why you’re up early. As in, early for someone who had the migraine from hell and had dealt with a mad man on her watch in the ED.’
    â€˜Eight is late for any morning of the week, no matter what’s been going on.’ She grinned. She couldn’t help it. Cody did that to her, made her want to smile, grin, shout from the rooftop. Shout what? Um... No idea, but it probably wouldn’t make a lot of sense.
    â€˜Want some breakfast? I popped out to the supermarket early on.’
    The mouth-watering smell of bacon cooking tempted her. A lot. But she knew better than to give into temptation. ‘Dry toast and herbal tea will do for now.’ Though that bacon did smell delicious.
    â€˜No fatty food after a migraine?’
    â€˜I avoid it for a while.’ Did he have to look so comfortable at the stove too? Where didn’t he fit in? Her ultra-modern kitchen had never looked so good, although a bit cramped for space. He could have been on the poster for the kitchen company; they wouldn’t have been able to keep up with orders.
    â€˜So, no tennis today. But you’ve got that birthday party and a game of cricket tomorrow.’
    â€˜My cricket skills are no better than my tennis ones. I usually keep the score.’ A sportswoman she was not. But there had to be something out there she could get into and enjoy, some hobby or game that would keep her busy and her brain engaged when she wasn’t working, or looking after one or other of ‘the brat pack’, as she called her brothers’ broods. Glancing across at her dining table, she shrugged. The patchwork quilt she’d promised her mother hadn’t progressed past the first few blocks.
    â€˜Nor are my sewing